


Besame, pero no muerdas

by yuridia



Series: El yo que dejé en ti [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:45:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuridia/pseuds/yuridia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He receives three text messages that night.</p><p>“i broke up with my girlfriend. coming over to your house”</p><p>“btw that was a joke”</p><p>“sorry, no more talking now”</p><p>And one six months later.</p><p>“I still love you”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Besame, pero no muerdas

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who starts college today and has an exam and it's writing this.
> 
> I just wanted to write a break up that doesn't happen bc of long distance or the "i break up with you bc im afraid of how much i love you"  
> So.
> 
> I'm fucked, wish me luck.
> 
> edit: fixed some mistakes, made new ones.

_“How are you?”_

 

Nowadays, Akaashi has become accustomed to this fake sympathetic question. It’s not odd to find their classmates already hungry for a little piece of information about the latest scandal, which unfortunately involves him. What bothers him the most about the whole situation, it’s the fact that the majority of them don’t know him aside from a distant greeting or an obligatory apology. If they did, they would know for certain he is not a charlatan person who loves to spill his secrets and feelings at the first chance he gets.

 

“I'm good. Thank you.”

 

They find his answer empty. They find his eyes lacking anger, sadness, doubt and due to it their stares follow him around the school. As wolves expecting the pry’s stumble, they carefully wait to take the main bite of his downfall. To survive, he gives the same answer over and over again, in hopes they eventually will get tired of it.

In contrast to Akaashi’s quiet and evasive demeanor, Bokuto laughter roars through the hallways. He acts the same as always: stopping and talking to everyone he comes across with, glaring at his Math teacher in a far from subtle way, obnoxiously complaining about homework to the roof and practicing until his hand is swollen from hitting the ball innumerable times. However, he doesn’t talk about their relationship at all. He plays dumb and the others believe him, rolling his eyes and walking away.

Nonetheless, Akaashi is exasperated because Bokuto has the nerve to act in this kind of manner around him. Bokuto still screams his name when he is excited, rushes to his side at the sight of him, steals part of his lunch and makes a show for his attention. His behavior does nothing but increase the hushed whispers and hopeful looks thrown at them.

From an outsider it might seem like nothing changed and it makes him furious. They are no longer together, it should not be the same. 

It was the right decision and Akaashi doesn’t regret it. It wasn’t that he didn’t loved him; he did. He still does. Yet, it was the fact that he was at pains to show it, to prove it to him because Bokuto was never satisfied. 

What’s more, he hopes to find the stability lacking in their relationship with someone else. Bokuto’s actions were always based on impulses and as a result Akaashi had to be extremely cautious with him. Their relationship was as pure and fragile as the edge of a rose’s petal. It was melancholic to watch it dry as time went and it was melancholic to watch how he got tired of being the one fixing it. 

On the contrary to expectations, Bokuto didn’t cry or beg when Akaashi broke up with him. In fact, he never saw him as serious as that morning. His eyes were so intense it made Akaashi gulp down and stutter through his words more than one time. With difficulty, he managed to explain why he had taken the decision, only to receive hollow words as a response: “I knew it would end like this.”

Now, people’s words, their sarcastic smiles, their malicious giggles show Akaashi his mistakes.

 

Bokuto is too close again.

 

He should take distance.

 

He should _fix_ them.

 

But, he is tired.

 

And his clothes fit better smelling like tangerine.

 

**…**

 

Despite his evident hurry, there’s a girl who keeps on blocking his way standing in front of him. After sighing in frustration, he stops and looks at her. Strands of her long wavy hair contour her curvy body as they fall to meet the beginning of a grey skirt. Soft brush strokes paint her lips a somber red, leaving her snowy skin unwrinkled. A smile could signify terrible hazards to such impeccable marble, so she doesn’t seem as a person who wears one often.

The edges of her mouth sharpen the question Akaashi has heard so many times before. Her sweet voice corrupts the atmosphere as the air tastes acid.

 

“I’m good. Thank you.”

 

The marble breaks as she grins, her eyes maniac.

One of the wolves corners the pry.

 

“I’m happy for you then, Akaashi. Although, I think he moved on a bit too fast. Don’t you agree?”

 

The first bite is given as his armor falls apart.

 

“He invited my friend on a date yesterday.”

…

 

Summer doesn’t bring much change to Akaashi.

However, summer brings Bokuto a new girlfriend.

 

…

 

“Smile.”

 

Because he took to heart his mother’s advice since he was a child, Bokuto tries to keep a smile on his face most of the time. He never wears the same; instead he adjusts them to the situation, making each of them unique.

Except one which founds a way to corrupt his face from time to time, one which Akaashi hates.

It’s not because of how crooked it is or how Bokuto’s lips tremble around it. It’s because of the tears accumulating on his cupid’s bow, the salty taste invading his mouth when he kisses it away. He hates how gold turns liquid and burns skin.

It’s also due to said advice that Bokuto doesn’t like to cry. Believing people find a particular satisfaction watching and remembering your failures instead of your achievements. He will jokingly sulk and complain but he’ll never allow himself to be seen at his lowest.

He wants to be remembered happy. He wants to be remembered victorious.

He wants to cry, yet he smiles.

They’re at Bokuto’s house when Akaashi sees it for the first time after their break up. Bokuto is tormented, messing his hair and rubbing his eyes, worried about his eternal competition for his parent’s approval against his clearly preferred sister and how his efforts came to nothing in regards to his personal goals.

Bokuto needs a friend, a normal friend. One whose fingerprints don’t tingle at his proximity, one who doesn’t grit his teeth to keep some words inside, one who never got that depressive smile off his face with a kiss.

One who doesn’t know the easiest way to make Bokuto feel appreciated.

 

Perhaps, it’s because he loathes this smile.

Perhaps, it’s because he misses his skin.

 

“Want to go to your room?”

 

But the words fall and he doesn’t take them back.

 

…

 

The sheets smell of tangerine. And something else.

It’s flowery and strong, overtaking the other essences. His own aroma gets lost under _her_ sweet perfume. He gets lost under _her_ shadow.

Closing his eyes, he imagines  _her_ under Bokuto. It starts with his hands caressing her sides, his fingers resting on her ribs, her long nails brushing his hair, her laugh, Bokuto’s smile.

Bokuto’s smile for her.

What’s more, as Bokuto exhalations collide against his stomach, his skin turns cold and he wonders if the same happens to her. Kisses and light bites travel his stomach and then his chest. When he opens his eyes he finds Bokuto staring down at him.

Long eyelashes protect his pure golden eyes.

Swollen red lips are coated with ambrosia.

Suddenly, he turns them around. As Bokuto looks up in surprise, cheeks painted peach, Akaashi leans closer and traces the soft skin of his bottom lip with his thumb.

 

“You won’t fuck me like I’m her.”

 

He won’t be one of Bokuto’s impulses.

He won’t be _her_.

 

…

 

He does not think of her when Bokuto’s waist turns white under his fingerprints.

He does not think of her when Bokuto’s back is marked with his teeth and nails.

He does not think of her when Bokuto’s hands search for something to hold onto.

He forgets about her the moment Bokuto turns to kiss him on the mouth. Akaashi doesn’t bite his lips; he doesn’t leave a mark.

 

_I’m not her._

 

_You’re not mine._

 

Bokuto doesn’t kiss him again for the rest of the night, yet as far as he is concerned it was enough.

 

…

 

It’s not much later when Akaashi leaves to shower at his house, Bokuto already sleeping. Under the warm water, he traces the paths Bokuto carved on his skin. A frisson as gentle as the drops sliding on his muscles accompanies the pads of his fingers. He licks his lips, somehow they’re softer and colder.

His heart beats faster while his ribs remain fragile as always.

He gets out of the shower, yet salty drops keep falling down.

 

…

 

_You’re not mine. You’re not mine. You’re not mine._

 

…

The sidewalk’s cement scratches the bottom of his shoes as he lazily drags his feet. It’s the image of Bokuto walking hand in hand with his alleged girlfriend what makes him come to a sudden halt. His muscles contract in fear while his saliva turns sour.

Instinct tells him to run away, to escape, to be safe.

He is about to obey when Bokuto screams his name at the top of his lungs, running towards Akaashi’s petrified figure. His girlfriend follows him in a calmer manner, giggling behind her hand. Face to face, she gives him a stiff smile before excusing his boyfriend’s chaotic behavior. And then, finally, she introduces herself.

Akaashi greets them and nods politely at her. Yet, he can´t keep his emotions under control as he glares at Bokuto. It’s one thing for her to want to talk to Akaashi, but Bokuto knows. He knows what they did and clearly he doesn’t care.

 

“Keiji, don’t get mad at him.” His own name startles him when it comes out of her mouth. It’s stupid; childish, even. He doesn’t want her to say it. It’s not hers to know. “I wanted to meet you.”

 

For a moment, Akaashi panics. He remembers bruises, teeth and nails. He remembers the ephemeral fragrance of tangerine. Despite of how much he had wanted her to see them, to feel them; she doesn’t deserve it. She doesn’t deserve the feeling devouring his lungs, his heart.

He was given a choice, she was not.

Bokuto, however, is relaxed. In fact, before meeting Akaashi’s eyes, he plays with her fingers as their hands link.

 

 “She is jealous we still hang out.”

 

Both of them stare at Bokuto with wide eyes, but for different reasons. Her cheeks are red in shame for being exposed by her boyfriend, murmuring some insults under her breath at him. Akaashi stays still, furious.

Bokuto’s laugh is loud and annoying. It breaks Akaashi a little more.

He can’t believe him. He can’t believe how shameless he is about everything. Akaashi doesn’t know what hurts mores; the fact that what they did is meaningless enough to joke about or the fact that Bokuto just _doesn’t_ care.

He needs to get away. To run away from them, from him.

Bokuto smiles at him and his lips don’t tremble.

 

…

 

“I can’t be your friend.”

 

Akaashi says the next day as he removes Bokuto’s arm off his shoulder. He thought it would be easier until he found that Bokuto has settled under his flesh. As branches, he grows around Akaashi’s bones and, although he tries to break them apart, he ends up tearing his own flesh instead.

With no roots, the branches will eventually disappear.

 

“How do you want me to treat you then?”

 

Bokuto’s voice is loud compared to the distant sounds of students and teachers leaving their classrooms. He sounds annoyed. The corner in which they’re hidden, however, keeps silent.

“We both need space. You graduate soon, so it shouldn’t be hard.” He kneels down and ties his shoelaces. “This is not fair to her or me.” Expecting some kind of answer, he keeps quiet for a few seconds. Yet nothing comes.  “You know I love you.” Akaashi finishes.

 

A spiteful laugh is heard making Akaashi look up. Bokuto is grabbing his hair in one hand, white strands escaping between the spaces from finger to finger. His eyelids are closed while his mouth stretches in one sardonic grin.

 

“Fuck you, Keiji.” He laughs again, his voice breaking. “You say all this shit but you won’t even look me in the eye.” Then, he glances down. Akaashi notices he blinks several times before gulping down saliva. “You don’t get to say what’s fair or not. You’re the one who broke up with me.”

 

A part of him feels relieved. He is awfully ashamed of it but he can't help it. Their break up meant something to Bokuto. It hurt him. 

Slowly, he stands up. Not only his limbs are heavy with exhaustion, a weak headache is beginning to bother him as well. He takes a deep breath and prepares himself for Bokuto’s reaction.

 

“I did it because you keep acting like a child who needs constant attention.”

 

Bokuto’s snort comes to no one’s surprise.

 

“I’m sorry I’m too immature for you.”

 

“It’s just- No, no. You don’t get it.” Akaashi denies fervently while Bokuto rises an eyebrow, waiting for his explanation. The seconds weigh heavy on the delicate atmosphere as he tries to come up with one which won’t make Bokuto defensive.

 

He tests the water with a simple question.

 

“Tell me. Why are you with her?”

 

In response, Bokuto tears his gaze away from him. His right hand falls from his hair to his face, hiding another irritable smirk. His shoulders sink in defeat.

 

“Are you playing the jealousy card now Keiji? Too late. I can’t-“

 

“Please. Just answer me.” Akaashi’s voice interrupts. It’s soft and delicate, on the verge of breaking so Bokuto quietens. He takes his time before turning to look at Akaashi again, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

 

“I don’t know.” His voice is as fragile as Akaashi’s. “I didn’t know what to do. It felt right. She is amazing.”

Consequently, the horrific smile Akaashi hates finds its way to his face and before he can think about it, his hand reacts and grabs Bokuto’s one. Their clothes are separated by inches.

Bokuto feels warm.

 

“Just say it. Whatever you want to say just say it.”

 

Akaashi sighs and prepares to talk.

 

“You were alone so you found someone who made you feel worthy again. And eventually, when she wasn’t around, you cheated on her with me.” Saying the words aloud changed something in the atmosphere, making both of them flinch. “You don’t know how to live without someone praising you. Lifting you up.” Bokuto lets go of his hand, his expression holding back a remark. “I couldn’t be with you knowing that if I didn’t give you enough attention, you would leave me for someone else.”

 

Then, Bokuto speaks. Angry. Merciless.

 

“So you did it to test me? You fucked me to test me?”

 

“No,no – I don’t know. I just- You were sad.” The fabric of his trousers crumbles under his shaking hands as he grabs it. “And I’ll give you everything you ask. Everything. I can’t control it.”

 

It slowly comes to a realization for both of them. They’re helpless; feeding their personal monsters with their relationship, tearing it apart during the process.

 

“You complain about me, yet you’re the one who started everything that night. You can’t play with me like this.” Bokuto isn’t furious anymore, yet impotence feels his bones and muscles. They stay facing each other, while classmates and teachers pass by; oblivious to the universe shattering between them.

 

”We can’t be friends.” His voice reaches Akaashi’s ears and he isn’t pleased about hearing those same words again. He isn’t sure he can endure it. ”I won’t change if you keep giving me that attention, right? And you will keep coming back if we’re this close.”

A familiar smile makes Akaashi’s nails scratch the skin of his fists, proving once more he needs to let him go. Despite how still and anxious Akaashi is, Bokuto gives him a short and quick hug.

 

“I- I never did it. I never cheated on you.”

 

And with those words, Akaashi and Bokuto walk on different paths for the first time.

 

…

 

He receives three text messages that night.

_“i broke up with my girlfriend. coming over to your house”_

_“btw that was a joke”_

_“sorry, no more talking now”_

 

And one six months later.

_“I still love you”_

 

.

.

.

 

It’s one of the wolves he so much complained about the one who gives him the address of Bokuto’s new flat. It’s a fair deal who benefits them equally; on one hand Akaashi obtains the directions, while on the other hand the girl gets to know the situation between him and Bokuto. And along with it, a new gossip to bite and rip with her friends.

Not only it is extremely embarrassing to explain it to her, but also the possibility of Akaashi not being able to put a foot on the school if his plan fails lowers his enthusiasm as the words leave his mouth.

However, his main problem is not gossips. It consists in being that said plan is nonexistent.

Moreover, that’s why he finds himself standing in front of an impressive building; no bone of his intending to make a single move. The wind shows no mercy slapping his face from time to time with cold rushes. He can’t feel his nose which he is sure looks as red as his fingertips while the regret of not putting some gloves appears late, same as always.

Additionally to his pitiful looks, there’s snow on his scarf slowly melting and dripping to his neck and his hair is a mess of wet and tangled strands. All in all, he is not at his best.

He has to deal with it, anyways.

Fifteen minutes pass by; six people pass by. Three look at him wary, two frown at his appearance and one simply ignores him.

It’s the number seven who startles him, landing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

 

“You okay there? You’ve been staring for quite a long time-“

 

The voice alone made Akaashi’s heart awake. Turning around, they stare at each other for an embarrassing amount of time.

 

“Keiji? Long time, no see.”

 

It’s stupid. His greeting is stupid. The situation is stupid. He laughs despite himself and Bokuto smiles right back at him. He evades his eyes from time to time, unable to maintain eye contact. The action only adding color to his red cheeks.

Unlike Akaashi, Bokuto wears a black beanie and his hands are covered in gloves as he scratches his blushing nose. His golden eyes stare at him, softly, innocent. Pure.

Everything seems new and raw, yet not completely.

Akaashi remembered how Bokuto took his coffee and how much sweets he could eat before a stomach ache, but he forgot about the little things, the important ones.

 

_His smile._

_His blush._

_The rebel strand of hair falling to his nose._

_The softness of his eyes._

_The warm of his eyes._

_His eyes._

_His mouth._

_The tip of his nose._

_The mole under his jaw._

_His._

 

_Him. Him._

 

Bokuto helps him love. And it’s so hard to explain because their love is not for adjectives or nouns. It’s not a beginning, it’s not a middle neither an end. It’s sometimes cold, sometimes warm, it’s cold and warm and maybe none. He wants more and he is afraid.

But the fact remains, he loved him and he still does.

Bokuto seems conscious about his movements, almost shy; not knowing how to act. Nevertheless, he keeps smiling. Akaashi dares to say, maybe, this could be a favorite.

Akaashi hides the strand of Bokuto’s hair under his beanie.

 

_His hair._

 

“You look…”

 

“Wet.” Akaashi provides smiling and Bokuto laughs.

They look at each other, standing in the cold. Tiny smiles, tiny gestures.

Until Bokuto sighs and turns his gaze away.

 

“You didn’t text me back.” He says, looking intensely at the lamp at his side with a childish pout. Akaashi feels relieved at the sight of it. He remembers him like this. “Yet, you come to my building looking like a wet kicked puppy.” He turns to look at Akaashi again.

 

“Is this another test?” He asks jokingly, but Akaashi panics and rushes to deny it. “Well, it won’t work.” Bokuto interrupts him laughing. ”Quoting Kuroo: I’m a lot more confident now and need no man.” A darker blush paints his cheeks as he speaks again. “Yeah, uhm. It’s pretty lame to say but I’ve been single this whole time.” Akaashi frowns at him and tries to talk before being interrupted once more. “I know I didn’t need to do it but- just – I don’t know. I didn’t need it.”

His voice turns vulnerable as it drops to a whisper.

 

“It was easier to feel confident. Away from them. My family.” Akaashi waits, even though the gold in Bokuto’s eyes doesn’t shine as bright. “But I missed you so much.”

 

They keep staring at each other. Expecting the other to make the next move.

 

“I love you.” Akaashi says.

 

…

 

There are colors everywhere. There’s the blurred blue of a car, the wet red of the lollipop of a tiny child, the hurried grey shadows of people walking at their side, the soft yellow of the sunlight piercing through clouds, the utter black of clothes, the addicted pink of his mouth.

White covering everything and mixing with the feeling of his heart.

Yet, he can only see an ambrosial gold and find a prayer in it.

He smiles.

 

…

 

“How are you?”

 

“We’re good. Thank you.”


End file.
